Sunday, May 25th, 2022.
7:00 PM.
The secondary gym had been remodeled to serve as the venue for the Rave'N. Since the students' parents would also be attending, a larger space was needed than the hall typically used.
The place had its walls covered with heavy dark gray velvet curtains and was dimly lit. Above, white floating fabrics hung, resembling mist, intertwined with silver skulls and dry branches. In the center of the ceiling, a large disco ball illuminated the dance floor. Surrounding the area were round tables with white tablecloths and chairs for everyone to sit comfortably and enjoy drinks or food.
In the corners stood ice statues of various types of monsters like Hydes, Yetis, and Hags. At the center, there was a table with sound equipment controlled by a DJ.
The floor exuded a light mist that reached the feet of the guests entering through the two large doors. Students entered accompanied by their parents, all dressed elegantly in white and gray colors.
Xavier entered the hall dressed entirely in white—white tuxedo and shoes. He was accompanied by his father, Vicent Thorpe, a famous psychic in the outcast society.
Vicent looked very much like Xavier, only a bit taller. He also wore a white tuxedo, but with some black details. His face exuded calm, and he had a slight smile as he walked beside his son.
"Look, Dad, there's Ajax with his family," said Xavier, pointing to one of the tables that was almost fully occupied.
At the table, Ajax was sitting, sipping a red drink that looked like blood but wasn't. He was with his father, his younger brother, who also attended Nevermore, and his older brother, who worked in Congress.
Vicent nodded and walked with Xavier toward the Gorgon family's table.
"Sthenon, my friend! It's been a long time!" said Vicent with a big smile, extending his hand.
Sthenon, Ajax's father, was already standing and smiled when he saw Vicent.
"My old friend! You finally have time for social gatherings. It's good to see you here," said Sthenon, extending his hand for a handshake with Vicent.
Sthenon appeared to be no older than 30. He stood over two meters tall, and unlike Ajax, his hair was uncovered. His snakes were peacefully asleep, not turning anyone to stone.
"Work is complicated," said Vicent with a slight smile.
Sthenon gestured for father and son to sit at his table. Xavier started chatting with Ajax. Ajax's younger brother played on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings, while his older brother began talking with Sthenon and Vicent.
"I don't see any of your wives. Couldn't they attend?" Vicent asked, noticing only the men of the Petropolus family (Ajax's surname).
"It's complicated…" said Sthenon with a sigh. "It's hard to maintain harmony with three wives. Every day it gets worse, and they have less patience with each other," he added, shaking his head.
As the Thorpe and Petropolus families chatted, more families entered the hall, and the start of the dance was drawing closer.
The mermaid family of Kent and Divina were chatting at a table, with Bianca sitting with them since her mother wouldn't be attending the dance. She wasn't in a good mood after losing the final fencing exam to Wednesday in front of everyone.
At another table sat Yoko's vampire family. They all wore dark sunglasses and had pale skin. They weren't too fond of the all-white dress code, but they had no choice since that was the theme.
Yoko and Divina exchanged glances every now and then but didn't dare approach each other, as they still hadn't told their families about their relationship, knowing their families were orthodox, like 99% of the outcasts.
Few outcast families accepted the new trends and fashions of the new generation, who were connected to the normie world through social media and phones.
One of those few families was the Ottingers, the family Eugene belonged to. His mother Janet had married Sue, and both were his mothers. Although not all of the Ottingers accepted this.
The background music was fitting for an end-of-year dance, though since the dance had not yet started, it was playing softly so people could talk comfortably.
Ten minutes before the official start of the dance, the two large doors of the gym opened again. A cold breeze swept through the room, causing many families and students to turn their heads.
A peculiar and very different family entered the hall. Leading them was a man with a thin mustache and a charming yet sinister smile.
It was Gómez Addams, dressed in a dark pinstriped suit and tie. He wasn't much of a fan of white and never adhered to the rules.
His stride was firm and passionate as he quickly glanced around, inspecting the hall. Upon noticing the disco ball above the dance floor, his face lit up.
"Morticia, my love, would you care for a waltz? Like in our student days," he said in a romantic and melodramatic tone, taking his wife's hand.
Morticia Addams followed him with grace. She was also dressed in a sleek, long black dress. Her dark hair fell in a perfect cascade over her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin.
"It's not time to dance yet, dear. This place… it could be darker, but it has its charm," Morticia replied in a calm tone as she surveyed the room.
Behind them walked a boy of about ten years old: Pugsley Addams. His hair was short and black, with brown eyes and light freckles. He wore his usual outfit, a striped T-shirt and long shorts.
Pugsley's expression reflected a mix of curiosity and slight excitement. While his parents were immersed in their romance, he couldn't help but notice the massive ice statues in the corners.
"Do you think a grenade would break them in one hit?" he asked quietly, with a half-smile as he looked at his sister.
Walking beside him was Wednesday, dressed in a long, elegant black gown with ruffles that resembled a raven. The ruffles fell in perfect layers, barely brushing the floor, while the fabric shimmered faintly in the gym's dim light. Her lips, painted black, formed a thin line of permanent disapproval.
"It's solid ice, probably reinforced by the school staff to withstand heat and pressure. A standard M67 hand grenade wouldn't generate enough energy to completely break it. The explosion produces a blast radius of 2.5 meters, but the fragmentary force wouldn't exceed the 60 psi needed to fracture ice of that mass," she explained without emotion. "You'd likely only create surface cracks. If you really want to destroy it, you'd need something more efficient… maybe a thermite charge to melt it from the inside, or use liquid nitrogen to weaken its molecular structure before applying any explosives," Wednesday replied in her usual monotone.
"I should've brought the thermite charge from home…" Pugsley murmured as he nodded slowly.
Everyone turned to look at the Addams family, who had become the center of attention as they moved toward one of the dimly lit tables.
They were the only ones dressed in black, disregarding the Rave'N theme. Many murmured, watching the Addams family as they passed by.
Gómez and Morticia paid no attention to the whispers; they were lost in their own world, reminiscing about their fond memories of Nevermore. Pugsley muttered things to himself, and Wednesday stared straight ahead without blinking.
"So many memories Nevermore brings back, cara mia," said Gómez, sitting down in a chair and surveying the hall with a broad smile that showed all his teeth.
Morticia, with her usual elegance and poise, sat beside him, crossing her legs with the grace of a dancer. Her dark eyes gleamed with nostalgia as she scanned the room.
"Ah, mon cher, how many nights like this we spent at Nevermore. The waltz under the full moon, the shadows that danced with us… And that time we let the novice werewolves loose during their first transformation," said Morticia with a slight smile. "Poor creatures, they could barely control their instincts. Of course, they were supposed to be locked in Lupen's cages, as they always do with the new ones, until they return to their human form."
Gómez chuckled softly, recalling the scene, "Ah, yes! The teachers were so worried about them, knowing how dangerous they could be during their first full moon. Out of control and feral… But we, on the other hand, enjoyed watching them run across the school grounds, freed from those cages. It was delicious chaos," Gómez added, giving Morticia's pale hand a gentle kiss.
Wednesday had already developed the skill of tuning out her parents' stories. Her gaze shifted downward, and she looked at her new dress. She had bought it at a shop in Jericho just yesterday. The students had one last chance to visit Jericho.
She went alone, as Luke didn't go due to a possible attack against him—or at least that was his excuse not to go, since he rarely cared about the Spellmans' assassination attempts on him.
Like her parents and brother, Wednesday could have worn her usual attire, but she decided to come in this elegant black dress. She wasn't sure why she did it. Well, she actually knew, but she preferred not to think about it.
"What are you thinking about, my little viper?" Gómez asked.
Wednesday slowly lifted her gaze, her expression remaining unchanged, but her eyes revealed a slight hint of discomfort. Her mind had wandered to thoughts she'd rather not share.
"I was thinking about how banal all of this is," she replied in her usual cold tone. "The music, the white dresses, the atmosphere of false celebration. It's suffocating."
Gómez smiled, "Always so profound, my little viper. Events like this were never your thing."
Wednesday didn't respond further. Her mind drifted back to what she was thinking about earlier: Luke. She had never mentioned Luke to her parents, let alone the connection they shared. She didn't want their relationship compared to the perfect story of dark romance her parents embodied.
What would she do when Luke arrived at the dance? Nothing. Both of them were very distant in public. Neither liked showing affection in front of others, so she could keep hiding her relationship with Luke from her parents.
They could ignore each other all night, and by the next day, it would be as if nothing had happened.
The only problem was the talkative hand, Thing. Despite being just a hand, he was quite gossipy and could end up saying too much. He knew about her relationship with Luke. Even though Thing had sworn loyalty to her, she didn't fully trust that he'd keep quiet, especially with her father.
So, to make sure her parents didn't find out about her and Luke, she locked Thing in a drawer.
"Did you make any friends at Nevermore, Wednesday?" Morticia asked with some expectation. Gómez also looked at her eagerly.
Throughout the year, the letters they received from Wednesday contained fewer than ten words. She barely told them anything about her school life. The most she had told them was about the lunar eclipse, only mentioning that she was staying to recover Goody Addams' book, their family ancestor.
"Friends?" Wednesday repeated with a biting tone, letting the word hang in the air for a moment.
"No. I have no friends to introduce to you," Wednesday replied in a definitive tone. Though, aside from Luke, she did have Eugene. She considered him more like a little brother and protected him, but he could be counted as a friend.
"My dear, it's inevitable to meet certain kindred spirits in places like Nevermore. There are bonds that simply can't be avoided... like ours," Morticia said softly, glancing at Gómez for a moment.
Wednesday maintained her composure, not letting her expression reveal anything. "There is nothing," she repeated, her tone unchanged. Then she looked away, as if the conversation no longer interested her.
'What a shame... I thought she'd find a friend or someone special at Nevermore…' thought Morticia, her expression slightly saddened.
She knew the attack had been aimed at Luke Poe, so she thought that during that chaotic battle, her daughter might have grown closer to the boy. Morticia, Gómez, and the entire outcast community were very curious to see, and possibly meet, the boy who possessed three auras and had killed two Spellmans and the servant of more than a hundred years, Atlas.
Many families of the students were searching for Luke Poe, asking their children where the boy was who had caused Elliot Spellman to leave the Triumvirate.